


Hallowed Hall

by DragonOfChanges



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Roman Myths, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonOfChanges/pseuds/DragonOfChanges
Summary: Castiel makes an unexpected journey to a place he never thought he'd see.





	Hallowed Hall

**Author's Note:**

> Character death is temporary and implied only.  
> I took liberties and combined Greek, Roman, and Norse mythology for this piece. Please excuse any inaccuracies.

Standing in the middle of a dense pine forest on the side of an unknown mountain, Castiel was extremely confused. He didn't recognise this place. He didn’t remember how he had gotten here. He’d been an a solo hunt. One minute he was chasing a Minotaur, of all things, through a hedge maze in Idaho. The next… He sighed.

'Here we go again', he thought, resigned to his fate. 'I’m either displaced...or dead. Not that it matters if I die, but if I’m dead, why am I not back in the Empty? Where am I?'

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he looked around the thick forest. It was beautiful here, wherever this was. The sun warmed the air. A cool breeze blew through the trees. Birds sang and insects flew. He could hear small animals scampering about on their business nearby. A tiny stream followed the hillside, flowing out of sight. He looked further out. As he scanned the horizon he spotted a barely there plume of smoke in the distance. Knowing that smoke most likely meant humanity, he started off down the hill, following the stream toward the faint sign of civilization.

He walked for a long time, pulling his coat tight around him against the breeze. Ok, he wasn’t on Earth if the cold of the wind could affect him. So where in Creation had he ended up this time? He walked for what seemed to be hours as daylight began to wane. Just as the sun was about to set over distant hills, he came upon a clearing with an enormous tree in the center. It was bigger by far than any he had seen in his time watching over Earth and the Winchesters. Beneath the tree sat a small cabin. From the chimney of the small wood building came a thin plume of cedar scented smoke. As he approached the clearings edge he called out.

“Hello? Is there anyone here? “ Getting no answer, he circled around to the front of the building. He came to an abrupt halt as he entered the front yard. There, sitting on the shaded porch, were three ancient ladies, in plain dresses of homespun material. One wore the skin of what might have once been a huge wolf draped over her shoulders. All three gnarled forms were bent over their individual tasks. One sat at a spinning wheel, another at a loom that took up much of the covered space. The third, wearing the skin, held a golden pair of shears in her twisted hand. This one spotted him, and spoke up.

“Took you long enough to get here, “ she quipped.

“My apologies?” He said, confused by her almost accusation. “Where am I? Why were you waiting for me? Who are you?” She strode up to him, put the shears in her dress pocket, and took his hands in her own. Her smile was gentle, her touch more so.

“We have waited long for your arrival, Castiel ben Elohim. My sisters and I.” She looked towards the others, and they each gave him a smile and a nod. The first, tallest of the three sisters continued.

“You have been set on the path to the All Fathers Hall, but Old One Eye requested that you come and see us before seeking admittance there. 

“So, I am dead. But why am I not in the Empty, as my kind usually is? Why have I come to Valhalla?” He asked. The woman shrugged.

“You died in battle, a hero, and were sent here. Exactly how one of my little brothers creations ended up in our realm is beyond me.” Castiel was surprised by this.

“Little brother? You are related to my Father?” He asked. She nodded.

“He is the youngest of our siblings. That makes you our nephew, I guess. You and that...trickster Loki.” She scoffed. Castiel grimaced at the mention of the archangel turned pagan deity. His brother who had given his life for humanity, saved them all by revealing the keys to Lucifer's cage. Looking at the other ladies working, he suddenly he realised who...no, what stood before him.

“Wait...You are the Norn, weavers of Fate.” He bowed low out of respect for these ancient beings. “I am honored to be in your presence, old ones. But I still don’t see why I am here.” The woman adjusted the skin she wore and sat heavily on the chair behind her.

‘We were told that you needed to see something before seeking admittance at the Hallowed Hall. We will show you the truth, and then you may chose.” She stated calmly.

“Choose?”He asked.

“To stay, to be at peace at long last, or to return to the mortal realm, again.” Castiel sighed. He looked beyond her, wistful.

“I would like peace...rest. There is no further threat to Earth from Heaven or Hell. Neither have any interest in mankind, anymore. I’m not really needed to defend them. The others can handle it from here. I think I’ve earned my rest, after millenia spent as a soldier…” The woman at the loom beckoned him closer to her work. Her voice was soft as she spoke.

“My sister spins the thread of each mortals life. I weave it into the fabric of its place with others.” She pointed to the tall Norn holding the golden shears. ”She severs the thread when each ones time and place in the Tapestry has ended. Look closely. She pointed to a single thread.

“This thread, this silver one, is yours. Notice how it has been knotted back on several times. These were the times that your Father and your son, Jack, brought you back to the living. It doesn't happen often, but upon occasion we indulge others whims.” She pointed. “See the tan thread, here, and the green one woven in close with yours...and the dark brown and copper and gold ones?” She asked.

“Dean, and Sam. Mary. And...Jack?” The Weaver nodded. Cas looked closer at the threads. 

“I'm not sure who the gold is, though." He cocked his head. "Both Sams and Deans have knots, as well. Deans has a large snarl...what happened there?” The Weaver chuckled.

“Loki happened. Over a hundred times. We couldnt change it, so I did what I could to work it back into the pattern, but...” She shrugged, then took ahold of the silver thread, showing him where it had recently been severed from the skein in her pocket.

“Now, this is the end of your thread. It could be knotted back on, continue to be woven with the green and the tan, brown, copper, and gold. But do you see what happens if it is not?” Cas looked at the continuation of the tapestry. His eyes narrowed as he spotted it.

“The fabric weakens, frays and comes undone. It isnt immediate, but it happens. So if I stay here…” The weaver pointed to a place further down in the fabric.

“Their lives fall apart, and eventually are cut short.The tapestry as a whole is damaged. You are needed there. The Winchesters need you. Your son needs you. Mankind still needs you. But the choice is yours. We know that you have more than earned your place by the fire, brave warrior.” Cas pondered for a long moment, and made his decision. He sighed. As much as he yearned to finally rest, he couldn’t stay.

“I will go back. For as long as Sam and Dean walk the Earth, while Mary and Jack still live, I will fight by their sides. When that time is done, I hope that I will still be welcomed at Odin's hearth.” All three women smiled. The Spinner spoke.

“We thought you’d say that. A messenger has been sent to guide you back. Be well until we meet again.” The Weaver removed something from her pocket and shyly held it out to the angel. It was a bracelet, braided from his thread, and from Deans, Sams, Marys, and Jacks-and the mysterious gold thread as well.

“This is to remind you of your place, your importance in the Tapestry in those moments when you doubt your worth.” She said. She tied it on his wrist.

“Thank you, all of you. I will keep it, always.” A large figure rode in to the space beneath the Tree on an animal that looked like a horse with way too many legs. The riders feet were shod in sandals laced up to his knobby knees. Each sandal bore a pair of wings.

“I am your guide home. Climb up on my beast, and I will get you back to the gate.” Castiel smiled as he hugged each of the Norn, and then gingerly climbed up to sit behind the stocky man in the saddle of the almost-horse. He waved, and then was gone in a flurry of legs.

The Three returned to their work, content in a task well done.

**Author's Note:**

> Non ownership stuff here...


End file.
